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I laugh in the face of pain! HAHAHAHA!
Oct. 27th, 2005 09:58 amWell, first I grimace, then I scrunch my eyes, and then I laugh internally because when I laugh out loud, my stomach muscles hurt from the crunches I did on Monday. They (and the rest of me) actually hurt quite a lot and I am surprised at my discomfort because 3 weeks ago I was fine with my work out and on Monday I was specifically NOT pushing it. Ah, well. With pain comes motivation and proof that more exercise is needed. I assure you, however, there is laughter and it’s not all pain-driven hysteria.
Wednesday Night has become my “Focus on Health Night”. I used to weigh myself on Wednesdays, but I’m too scale-shy right now. Detailed Diet: Why diet, a review of my diet, my theory of the diet tests and mocking of Carrots (Warning: this is pretty boring stuff – this is really for me and a few others I commiserate with): ( Read more... )
Exercise Update: ( Read more... )
I got home from the gym pretty late, but I decided I needed a long, hot bath with candle light and scented bath stuff. I haven’t done that in years and my walking partner does it everyday she gets home from work. I definitely think that I was motivated to do this because she keeps talking about it and it was GREAT! I was very relaxed when I was done. I told F that bubble baths might have to become part of my Wednesday Night Health Night, too. He laughed at me.
Somedays, I’m positive I don’t have enough of the girly gene. My sister got it in spades, so apparently my mom’s no-nonsense “knit sweater or turtle neck w/ slacks” way of dressing didn’t rub off on her like it did me. My closet is proof of my girly-inhibited state and, sadly, kind of resembles the stuff my mom wears with a few flashes of splash. (Ugh – I’ve grown up to dress like my mom, what kind of a fate is that? Everyone warns you that you might grow up and BE yoru parents. No one warns you that you might DRESS like one of your parents.) Bleck. But why do I care today? I am going out to dinner with the girls to El Morocco tonight and I had to pack a bag so I can change at work. Standing in my closet, I got all flummoxed about what to wear because most of my stuff is very summery or very sporty or drab heavy sweaters (a la mom). El Morocco is expensive enough to rate “nice”, so “jeans/sporty” (IMO) is out. It has floor/stool seating (no short skirts, no straight skirts), ME dancers, dim lights and great food. How do you dress for that from my closet? I have nothing in between for a casual dinner. In my flurry of indecision, I threw a few different (sleeveless summer) tops in my bag and a hand-woven shawl. I’ll play eeny-meeny-miney-mo when it comes time to change. Or I may just throw my hands up in the air and embrace the plain black of my work wardrobe, which looks remarkably like my moms (eek!): black slacks, black turtle neck, loafers, slate gray wool coat. (Sob! I dress like my mother!)
The irony is that I’m completely comfortable figuring out what’s appropriate for a costumed event, but I can’t get myself out of my own house dressed nicely.
Wednesday Night has become my “Focus on Health Night”. I used to weigh myself on Wednesdays, but I’m too scale-shy right now. Detailed Diet: Why diet, a review of my diet, my theory of the diet tests and mocking of Carrots (Warning: this is pretty boring stuff – this is really for me and a few others I commiserate with): ( Read more... )
Exercise Update: ( Read more... )
I got home from the gym pretty late, but I decided I needed a long, hot bath with candle light and scented bath stuff. I haven’t done that in years and my walking partner does it everyday she gets home from work. I definitely think that I was motivated to do this because she keeps talking about it and it was GREAT! I was very relaxed when I was done. I told F that bubble baths might have to become part of my Wednesday Night Health Night, too. He laughed at me.
Somedays, I’m positive I don’t have enough of the girly gene. My sister got it in spades, so apparently my mom’s no-nonsense “knit sweater or turtle neck w/ slacks” way of dressing didn’t rub off on her like it did me. My closet is proof of my girly-inhibited state and, sadly, kind of resembles the stuff my mom wears with a few flashes of splash. (Ugh – I’ve grown up to dress like my mom, what kind of a fate is that? Everyone warns you that you might grow up and BE yoru parents. No one warns you that you might DRESS like one of your parents.) Bleck. But why do I care today? I am going out to dinner with the girls to El Morocco tonight and I had to pack a bag so I can change at work. Standing in my closet, I got all flummoxed about what to wear because most of my stuff is very summery or very sporty or drab heavy sweaters (a la mom). El Morocco is expensive enough to rate “nice”, so “jeans/sporty” (IMO) is out. It has floor/stool seating (no short skirts, no straight skirts), ME dancers, dim lights and great food. How do you dress for that from my closet? I have nothing in between for a casual dinner. In my flurry of indecision, I threw a few different (sleeveless summer) tops in my bag and a hand-woven shawl. I’ll play eeny-meeny-miney-mo when it comes time to change. Or I may just throw my hands up in the air and embrace the plain black of my work wardrobe, which looks remarkably like my moms (eek!): black slacks, black turtle neck, loafers, slate gray wool coat. (Sob! I dress like my mother!)
The irony is that I’m completely comfortable figuring out what’s appropriate for a costumed event, but I can’t get myself out of my own house dressed nicely.
